


for the glory

by watername



Category: SHINee
Genre: Cock Slut, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub Undertones, Glory Hole, M/M, Minor Kim Kibum|Key/Choi Minho, Multi, Snowballing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-18
Updated: 2019-01-18
Packaged: 2019-10-05 22:18:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17333426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/watername/pseuds/watername
Summary: "Glory hole," the rest of them say, near reverent."I feel like we should have heard of this before," Minho says, looking slightly put-out.Kibum sniffs."Maybe if we came here more often, we could have given him a nice welcome.""What, like a fruit basket?" Taemin asks."No, like a cock."(the "jinki is a glory hole enthusiast who is really great at it and knows it" ot5 fic)





	for the glory

**Author's Note:**

> lots of usage of the word 'slut' (non-derogatory)

"Dude," Taemin hisses at a spectacularly disinterested Kibum. "There's a slut in the bathroom."

He only taps at his ear and shakes his head; the bass of the club is turned up to near-deafening. Taemin leans in closer and yells, 

"There's a slut! In the bathroom!"

Smiling, Kibum dips his head to sip at his drink. The satisfied curl of his lips leaves Taemin baffled for a moment, up until a hand cuffs him upside the head. Yelping, he reaches back to touch at the tender spot that's bound to have disarrayed his hair, as Jonghyun comes around. Their elder looks at him disapprovingly.

"Don't say stuff like that," he scolds, even louder than Taemin was yelling, and he eyes him back, incredulous at the remark.

"But that's what he said!"

Kibum, his interest having briefly moved to watching the dark head of Minho move through the crowd, their next round of drinks held protectively close to his body, turns back to them.

"What, he called himself a slut?"

Taemin nods furiously, his glass a danger to passersby as he gestures back towards the bathroom. Minho neatly sidesteps as he arrives.

"What's going on?" he says, accepting the round of thanks and jostle for drinks. A nearby group vacates a small cluster of seats, leading to their collective, silently agreed upon migration to the slightly quieter area. Minho elbows Taemin when he doesn't respond. The younger man is too busy trying to navigate the straw of his new drink into his mouth, so Kibum jumps in.

"Apparently, a slut."

Minho throws another elbow, and nods towards Jonghyun, "Are you really letting him talk about someone that way? Disrespecting promiscuity made in knowing consent or something?"

"Self-identifying slut," Kibum laughs as he explains. The ice clinks against the glass as he raises it in a toast. "Reclamation, or some shit like that."

There's a vague bobble of nods moving across their heads, as Taemin shifts in his seat.

"So - Taeminnie," Jonghyun starts. He taps against the side of his glass, his fingers sliding in the condensation when they stop. "Did they just volunteer this information, or....?"

"Well, I was taking a leak, and some guy came out of the stall, and he had his dick out, right. And it seemed weird, so I was looking at him and it - " Minho slaps a hand to his forehead, and Kibum pats his knee - "and he told me there was some whore in the stall next, and then the guy - the slut, I guess - because he went and corrected him, says, 'Slut, actually,' - but that guy had already left, but I was curious, so I went into the next stall - "

"Glory hole," the rest of them say, near reverent.

"I feel like we should have heard of this before," Minho says, looking slightly put-out.

Kibum sniffs.

"Maybe if we came here more often, we could have given him a nice welcome."

"What, like a fruit basket?" Taemin asks.

"No, like a cock."

Jonghyun bursts into giggles, blooming his face into pink. Kibum smiles softly at his fit before leaning forward, the angle of it turning sharp and gleaming. It's a move that has Taemin eyeing him suspiciously, and Minho grinning indulgently.

"No time like the present," he says; his low voice curls slowly and tantalizingly into a suggestion. 

"Who, though - "

"It," Jonghyun says, tapping his finger against his nose in a pattering rhythm. "It it."

Kibum lifts his hand up to gently pull his away from his face, bringing it to a rest near his chest.

"That's not how you play, hyung, it's 'not it'."

"No one was going to say that!" Jonghyun says defensively. Taemin and Minho avoid looking at each other as Kibum shrugs in casual acknowledgement. "I want to go first...but - oh -"

"Taeminnie," he says again, twisting around, all the small points of his body held in anticipation as he focused. "Did he sound nice?"

"Uh. Yeah?"

"Ringing endorsement," Kibum says, but Jonghyun is already brightening, and he withdraws his hand from Kibum's to reach out for Taemin's. 

"What about - what about his aura?"

"....blue?"

"Ooooh," he says, pleased. "Healing and calm. This is going to be a very holistic encounter."

"It's a glory hole, hyung. The hole is the only holistic thing about it."

Jonghyun shakes his hand, set and determined, and standing up with, from Taemin's perspective, a mild hard-on that should give him a good start, so he claps him on the arm and waits for everyone to pay attention to what he's about to say. It's very important.

"I call next."

* * *

"Hello!" he says, excitedly, when he enters the bathroom, and the two men standing at the urinals look at him with disquiet. 

"Hi," he says, milder. He rocks back and forth on his heels for a moment, casting meaningful looks at the stall. One of the two snorts suddenly; he, zips up and grabs his friend to leave.

"Bye!" he says.

The bathroom is empty, a state it's sure not to last in long, so he heads towards the second to last stall and closes with with a firmly decisive motion. 

"Hi," he says again. He look around, evaluating the stage: there's a small, cleanly cut hole besides the dispenser, and, charmingly, a pair of fingers wiggle out to wave at him, accompanied with a low chuckle.

"You sound really cute," he - the slut - says. Jonghyun blinks, and thinks that's going to be more dehumanizing than he's comfortable starting out as, so he reaches out and brushes his fingers. 

"Nice to meet you."

The fingers are soft and, after a moment, hold as best he can to his. 

"Nice to meet you too."

"My friend says you're a slut, but I want to know your name. If that's okay."

The voice hums, thoughtful and maybe still amused. Jonghyun wonders if he's doing this wrong. 

"After? I don't want to be a person right now," he offers with a marginal explanation before continuing, "Just a mouth."

It makes him a little breathless, the casual self-objectifying, and he finds his dick hardening at the tacit invitation. He nods for a moment, before realizing how useless that is. 

"Okay."

The fingers withdraw, and the hole lies invitingly empty. Jonghyun paws at his pants, tipsy and distracted, his mind trying to conjure up what's on the other side. Someone he saw outside maybe - maybe someone he even danced with, or moved past, or saw across the room. Maybe he was one of the guys in line ahead of him, the angle of whose jaw he kept catching his eyes on as they waited to be let in.  

When he wrestles his cock out, he moves to position himself in front of the opening, and finds it slightly higher than what he can accommodate.

He can already hear Minho's laughter - but he won't be deterred. If he goes onto his toes it will slide in and that would be enough. Nodding to himself, he bounces up a little when the voice clears his throat.

"Do you do pull-ups?" he asks.

"What?"

"Pull-ups. If it's too high for you, you can hold onto the top of the stall so you can hang from there instead of just standing on your toes."

"Oh," he says, stumped at the thoughtfulness. Briefly, he wonders if he can somehow manage to sound short. "You're really committed to this."

There's a low, self-deprecating chuckle.

"Yeah, I guess I am."

Jonghyun considers, lifting himself up experimentally before dropping. The low heels of his shoes skitter on the floor for a moment.

"I can't hold it for that long."

"Trust me, you won't need to."

His cock twitches at the confidence, and he mutters out an agreement. Stretching up, his fingers grip tight onto the top of the partition, and he scrambles, ungainly, until his cock slides through the opening. A warm, wet mouth envelops him. 

True enough to his word, the lips that close around him are tight and pressure against the smoothness of his cock with knowing skill. There's a tongue that darts out and plays along the underside; it's so sudden and good that Jonghyun wriggles as though he's being tickled, banging against the partition roughly enough that the other man raps his knuckles. It's sharp and rhythmic; it cuts through Jonghyun's drunken, hazy pleasure, and he struggles to regain some semblance of concentration. 

"Sorry," he says, a scratch in his throat.

He relaxes and lowers his feet slightly, tilting his dick upwards, and the other man moves smoothly with it, pushing down hungrily until he must be flush with the separation. He can almost see how his forehead must be pressed against the plastic, too hard to be comfortable, but relentless in his pursuit of Jonghyun's satisfaction. His tongue laves upon him more and more wetness. The slick escapes through his opening and stains against his pants unmistakeably. There are droplets of sweat gathering at the nape of his neck. He grits his teeth and stretches his head back, his eyes wandering up towards the lights and his vision blurring as his muscles start to pang in objection. 

The slut licks at the slit at his head, lapping up the pre-cum like it's a treat. 

Jonghyun lets out a whine of frustration, and, in a fit of need, lifts himself entirely up and braces his knees against the hard material. Slowly at first, cautious and not wanting to scrape against anything rough, he brings his hips forward so as to push as much of his length as possible. The slut greedily and noisily slurps, and he begins to tremble.

"I'm almost - " he says, losing the rest of the warning to another moan. He breathes out heavy, letting the next word out like a dropped weight. "Coming."

He pulls back, and his fingers pinch at the head of Jonghyun's cock.

"Come then," he dares and Jonghyun does, fucking himself forward as the orgasm takes him. His hips strike against the partition like a seizure, and his fingers lose his grip so he suddenly stumbles. His still-leaking cock slips back through the hole. He sags against the opposite wall. His breath comes nearly as hard. 

"You should put that way," he says conversationally. "Before you stain something."

Shaking his head as to clear it, and then shaking his head as to clean it, he does, zipping up. 

"What about you?" he asks. 

"Me?" the voice says, amused. "I had a good time. You smell better than the last guy."

"Um, thanks," he says. He thinks he still may be doing this wrong. "And thank you for - thanks. Would it be OK to have your name now?"

A soft, repeated noise with a hum makes Jonghyun realize the other man is tapping at his chin as though in thought; intrusively, he wonders if he's smearing cum, or if he swallowed it all. 

"Jinki," he says, finally. And then - "I think you're sweet to ask, but I meant what I said earlier. If anyone else comes in here, don't tell them, OK?"

"OK," he agrees. Ruminating a bit for the appropriate comment, he adds. "You're a really good slut, Jinki."

"Thanks."

Fingers poke through the opening to wave him goodbye, and Jonghyun thinks this may be off-brand for glory holes, but he's really fine with it.

* * *

 Taemin nearly jumps out of his seat when he spots Jonghyun coming out of the bathroom, his shirt in disarray and - 

"Is that a cum stain?" he exclaims, while Kibum inhales his drink in a snort and starts to choke. Minho pats his back on reflex, peering closer.

"Yeah, that's definitely cum," he looks at Jonghyun with a critical eye while the other man sits down and primly crosses his legs.

"Yours?"

"Unless he fundamentally misunderstood the purpose of a glory hole, yeah," Kibum interrupts before he can answer. He shrewdly looks at the other man. "How was it?"

"He was very sweet," he says. At their looks, he holds out his hands in defense. "He was!"

"OK, but, hyung," Minho says. "It's a dirty - "

"Pretty clean, actually -"

"It's a nightclub bathroom where you literally got a blowjob from a stranger, without seeing the stranger's face. That's not exactly romance."

Jonghyun huffs. 

"It was a really  _good_ blowjob, but I'm saying that he made it  _better_ because of the inherent sweetness of his character. It's a compliment!"

"You know what would be a better compliment - " Kibum starts.

"My dick," Taemin finishes triumphantly. He turns to remind the group, and, specifically, a frustrated-looking Kibum. "I did call next."

Minho makes a conciliatory gesture. "He has a point, Bummie. You can't just ignore a dibs."

He grumbles a little bit, and picks at a spot on his jacket with a frown. 

"Fine."

Taemin is already up and moving, setting down his empty glass with an unsteady hand. Jonghyun makes a noise and beckons him down, so he leans over and allows him to fix his hair. 

"Be nice," he admonishes him. 

"I'm always nice," Taemin says. 

Kibum, having made the mistake of bringing his drink back up for solace, chokes again.

* * *

 "Here for a blowjob," he announces as he throws open the door to the bathroom, urinals lined with occupants. A few shift uncomfortably, while a one or two smirk at him. He points, only swaying slightly. "But not from any of you."

He considers the line-up through narrowed eyes before conceding the point slightly.

"Tonight, anyway."

With that asserted, he enters into the stall to the sound of giggling. 

"Quite an entrance," he says as Taemin shuts the door.

He immediately squats down to be at eye-level with the hole. For a moment, a dark swoop of hair and a thick eyebrow are visible, before a hand slaps over the opening like a scold. 

"That wasn't very polite," he says. His voice, now sharpened to an authoritative point, immediately stirs Taemin's cock. 

"Sorry," he says, not very sorry at all. "I was in here earlier."

He is silent for a moment, before Taemin realizes that may not narrow it down.

"We didn't do anything. But you corrected a guy when he called you a whore," he says. As quiet as he can manage, he starts to wiggle his pants down around his hips, just loose enough that he can pull his cock out and palm it. Licking his lips, he gives it a small starter of a jerk.

"Yeah, I did. He was wrong. This isn't my job."

He breathes in through his nose, and out again. 

"Sucking off is a hobby now?" His intake of air as he laughs at the thought is a little tremulous: the returning chuckle is low and knowing.

"Not the way I do it," the voice says. Taemin can see that he's uncovered the hole again. His tone backs away from its earlier edge of authority, and takes a sweep towards lazy and teasing. "You're the one who went off to tell his friends all about me. Was the last one one of them?"

"Jonghyun."

"We didn't quite get to names," he says. "Jonghyun sounds cute. Polite, too. Sweet."

His cock is a smooth, familiar weight as he moves his hand. He wonders if the slut can sense what he's doing, if he has some sot of cock sixth sense honed by a constant parade of kinky bastards. He leans against the wall, hiding from view.  

"Do you like sweet?" he asks, as normally as he can. 

"I did for him."

"That's not really me."

"I'll be the judge of that, if you're lucky," he says, amused, but his tone irrevocably hardens with his next words. "Why are you holding out on me?" 

Taemin swallows. The sudden shift, the rapid throttle into authority, hits straight at his chest like a punch; his length pulses with excitement. 

"Tell me your name, then, if you can't even explain yourself."

He doesn't respond. He knows it's bratty, self-indulgent, and reckless - he could just be having his cock sucked right now instead of playing games - but he wants to see what happens if he keeps being difficult. He presses his fingers in a circle, and strokes in a tight loop down his cock. 

"I'm not going to repeat myself," he warns.

"Minho," he answers out of spite. His voices trips as he overplays. "Kibum, maybe. Taemin. I told three of us and you already saw Jonghyun. It's not like you're going to know the difference, so it doesn't even matter. Just something to keep you occupied, right? Three faceless dicks for you to put in your mouth."

He goes on, encouraged by the cold silence.

"What does it mean to you, then, huh?" he wraps his fingers around and strokes once-twice in a staccato. "Some slut in a bathroom that's pathetic and desperate to get off?"

"If you're trying to insult me - Taemin," he doesn't ask. It feels like he's giving Taemin the privilege of being called his own name, and it makes him feel warmly inconsequential. "It's not working. Show me what you're doing to yourself. If I don't like what I see - " he hums, cautioning. "Well, then we'll see who's the desperate one."

His fingers fumbling and unsteady, he steps over the toilet to lean against the other partition. Unlike before, the slut makes no motion to cover the hole now. Instead, he watches Taemin coolly. The lovely curve of his eye doesn't make his gaze any less heavy. It flickers down when he repositions his hands; he puts the other at the back of his neck as he endeavors to look as unbothered as possible. It's a difficult task; he makes no commentary, admiring or disapproving, as Taemin starts to slowly work at his cock again. 

He knows the value of his own looks; he's seen the way others look at him - some are coy, some are shy, some are bold as brass, but none of them have made Taemin feel like he's on display as much as this man does. Already possessing a healthy awareness of his own body, it feels heightened here, as though every minutiae is being cataloged and measured for worth. He tilts his head back, aware of how there's a line of sweat at his temple, and how it would catch the light. He tries to picture how he looks, to calculate how to best satisfy this man he's suddenly exhibiting himself for, but the alcohol and excitement is making his judgment slip and flail. The thoughtlessness catches up to him, as he closes his fingers too tight around his warm, dry cock. He hisses at his own sudden roughness, but it finally gives him the evaluation he's been aiming for. 

"Sloppy," he says, and Taemin flushes with embarrassment. Ironically, it's the prompt his length seems to have been waiting for as it beads out a drop. The other man spots it, and clucks his tongue slowly, radiating disappointment. "You can't jerk off without hurting yourself, baby?"

He shivers at the condescension.

"Yes, I can."

"No, you can't. You just showed me you couldn't. But if you want to embarrass yourself again, I'd like to see it. You want to try again?"

Biting his lip, too hard, he nods. 

"Say it nice and loud for me, baby."

"I can masturbate," he says, loud, irritated. Someone snorts outside. 

"Ignore them. Go ahead and prove it, and I'll let you come over here."

Red-faced and struggling to ignore everything besides those eyes still locking into him, he takes new hold of his cock, stiffened painfully hard at the rebuke. He pushes his shoulders back against the partition and leans with his hips out, letting his length prominently jut out. It earns him a soft hum of approval that he can feel spread out over his body, envelop his throat, branch out of his chest, and into the tips of his fingers as they curl. The expectation being brought to bear on his performance of self-pleasure manages to sharpen through his alcohol-muddied senses and fog of sensation. 

He feels immeasurably aroused, and his fingernails dig into the nape of his neck as a particularly firm stroke squeezes around the bell of his length. He wants it to feel pain piercing against his skin, as some tactile expression of the look holding him pinned to the wall. He wonders, blindly, feeling a droplet of sweat fall onto his cheek, if he's anywhere close to the slut's standards. 

"That's enough," he says, out of nowhere, interrupting his burgeoning self-doubt with disturbingly precise timeliness. He pants, his hand wet and slick and full, shifting his weight from leg to leg. "Do you think you've waited long enough?"

"Yes! Fuck," he gulps. His cock is twinging, eager for him to continue his display, his body whispering to him to continue, but he wants those lips, that tongue that put him in his place, that made him feel small and rash and utterly at his mercy. He swallows hard and tries again, closing his eyes and sliding down until he feels they're at the same level. He knows the sheen of sweat on his face is obvious, his cock is still out and greedy for attention. "I tried. If you'll have me."

There's a thoughtful silence that Taemin hates being part of. 

"Stand up," the slut finally says. He slips, pushing himself up hastily, his hand sliding across the tile. "You get one minute."

"One - " he starts to object, but closes his mouth hard and fast before the thought can escape. "I mean. Thanks."

"You're welcome. Bring it over here, baby. Let's see what you kept from me."

Taemin pushes his dick through, and the slut, his lips closed, brush against his head softly. It's unhurried and he has a moment where Jonghyun's assessment comes to the forefront -  _sweet_ \- before he loses it to his own arousal. The whine breaks out of his mouth; he bounces on his heels. 

Agonizingly slow, he opens his mouth just wide enough for the head of his cock to be admitted. The blade of his tongue pushes into his glans, and Taemin just wants to fuck his mouth, to see his dick buried between his lips - his brain puts together the small amount he's seen to imagine his eyebrows furrowed in concentration, his hair twisted around Taemin's fingers, his low, commanding voice made scratchy and hoarse afterwards. It's torture, knowing how little time he's been given, and how unhurried the ministrations are, and he drops his head forward to bang against the partition in surrender.

"OK," the slut says, amused at his want. "Go on then."

Taemin fucks forward almost before he can finish the words, and the slut welcomes him, indulgent, licking and sucking in equal measure for only a few moments before it becomes too much. Having stimulated himself too much, he shakes through his orgasm and gasps in relief when it finishes. His cock is released before he's even done. 

The slut taps against the head of his cock until he removes it, then beckons him down with his fingers. 

He squats down again at eye-level, and, dark-eyed and amused, the slut runs his ring-clad thumb across his cum-smeared lips and smiles at him. 

* * *

 Kibum spots Taemin coming out of the bathroom first.

"Finally," he gripes to Minho. "C'mon, let's go."

Minho, making a baffled if perfunctory noise, raises his eyebrows before questioning - "Us?"

He rolls his eyes as Taemin sits himself down. He doesn't say anything, but rather just stares into space, until Kibum snaps his fingers in front of him a few times. 

"Sorry."

" _Sorry_?" Minho says, and Jonghyun puts his hand against his forehead. Kibum has a better control over his reaction, so he only raises a questioning, somehow salacious eyebrow.

"Wow, I guess he's got something more to recommend him than just sweetness, then."

His shrug is less smooth than normal. 

"Yeah, he was good."

They consider him for a moment before Kibum grabs Minho's arm and pulls him up as he stands.

"Yes, 'us'."

Jonghyun waves at them cheerily when they leave, Minho grousing in protest as he complies, while he sips from his violently pink drink. Once they're out of sight, he scoots besides Taemin.

"Sweet, right?"

 Taemin clears his throat, and carefully rearranges his legs as he leans forward to pick up his now watery drink. It doesn't quite work; he can't help but wince at the dull ache, but the reminder makes him smile, small and secret.

"Definitely."

* * *

 Minho protests, laughing, all the way until Kibum squeezes both of them into the stall, having ignored with his head held high any knowing looks cast their way. Once they're inside, he lets the composure drop away a little bit, and swats at his hand when he lifts it to cup Kibum's cheek as a prelude for a kiss.

"Not yet, not yet," he says. Polite, he knocks at the side of the partition. 

"Hi," the voice says. Kibum likes it, likes how matter-of-fact he is, how casual he is about this whole thing. Anyone who positions themselves inside a stall and can maintain that level of straightforward greeting after - he does a brief count - at least three bouts is someone he can respect. 

"I'm going to kneel down," he says, "And so is my boyfriend."

When there's no protest, not even the subtle sound of someone shifting due to discomfort, he does and finds himself looking at a polite, attentive man about his age. Brown-eyed, brown-haired, he brushes his hair back with one hand, glittering silver rings catching the light above. Kibum lets his eyes flicker over him without a hurry, taking note of the parts he likes the best: there's the little bump in his nose, the brush of his eyelids and the bright eyes beneath them, the plump gloss of his lips. He swallows and Kibum adds - the apple of his neck - and how his shirt slides down to expose the muscle joining his neck and shoulders. He wants to run his hands down, and explore all of it, but settles for documenting the entire picture for later.

"Come here," he says to Minho without looking, only moving aside once the other man is level with them. 

Minho waves a jaunty hand at the slut. 

"Sorry about him," he says. 

"It's fine," he answers, unbothered. "I hope you're not expecting both of you to fit at once."

He has to laugh at that; he's glad at the snark. 

"No," he says. "But I want you to suck his cock while I finger him, OK?"

Minho turns up to look at him, big-eyed and flushed and still a little giggly from the trip over, but his throat bobs in that way Kibum knows better than anything. He draws him up to get that kiss, to let his hands drop to his hips and enjoy the turn of his body. His lips are still wet and tasting of liquor, sharp and stinging, as they move together unhurriedly. When he lets him move from his lips to the corner of his mouth, to the side of his jaw, he makes his sure he's looking in the direction of the hole when he opens them. He knows the importance of marketing.

"Which order?" he asks. His voice, Kibum notes, sounds a little less casual than before. 

Unhurried, he fishes a small packet from his pocket and pushes Minho away with it in hand. There's calculations in his eyes perfectly capable of letting Minho suffer, but he makes the decision easily enough.

"Me," he watches him lick his lips in satisfaction, and begin unbuckling. He's seen his body enough, but still gets the satisfaction of knowing it's his to touch and enjoy, unless he chooses to include someone else. Someone he could trust to treat Minho well, someone sweet, someone skilled. When he shucks his trousers, he holds out his hand to stop him for a moment. 

"OK?" he mouths, and Minho nods fervently. 

"Turn around," and he obeys in a tight shift, letting his head drop forward to connect with the partition. He steps up behind him and draws his finger along the line of his small of his back; the skin goosepimples beneath his touch, and the colder air from one of the vents hitting the exposed strip. When he reaches the crease at the center, he hooks his finger at the band of his underwear and pulls it back, only to release and let it snap back in a minor scold. 

As he kicks his feet apart into a wider stance, he can hear him take a shuddering, preparatory breath. 

"Off," is all he says, quiet but firm. 

The lube is cold, too, so he lets his coated thumb rest at the high point of his ass, just below the waistline, out of kindness.

"Are you hard?" he asks, sotto and meant more for the other man than anything else.

Minho shakes his head, and Kibum reaches around with his free hand, finding his cock. He circles it gently and pumps it a few times. When it firms up in his hand, just enough to start with, he leads Minho over a few steps in an unavoidably awkward sideshuffle. 

He finds the hole himself and carefully guides Minho through. 

"Wait until I tell you," he says. "Understand?"

"Yes," there's a beat of silence in which it seems like he wants to say more, but he cedes to Kibum's authority. He appreciates that. 

"You're both being very, very agreeable," he comments, drawing his thumb down and streaking against the shadowed, pert crease. He pushes aside until he finds what's he's looking for; he simply lets the pad of his thumb rest as Minho breathes in and out in deliberate measures. 

"I have a good - ah - reason," Minho half-jokes, and Kibum hides his smile against the blades of his shoulders. His thumb at the top, his other fingers are free and stretch to brush at the dark, sensitive spaces underneath. A little bit of teasing, all in good fun. 

"Me too," the slut says. He sounds more composed again, but, as Kibum stops his motions for a moment, Minho lets out a shiver, and he knows the man on the other side of the wall must be sitting eager and close, breathing hungrily on his length.

His thumb is replaced with his finger, as he languidly lets his nail draw along the rim, back and forth, back and forth in an arc that does nothing but make Minho's face pinch in a certain way. Even as he can't see it, he knows how his breath hitches, the small noise of him biting and releasing his lip, and then - 

"C'mon, Kibummie," he cajoles. "Please?"

Despite the slip - he was planning on letting this be anonymous - he decides to let it go, chalking it generously up to drunkenness and arousal. Still, he can't let an opportunity slide past, so when he accedes, he does it a little quicker, a little rougher than normal, trusting that his point is communicated. Minho's fingers curl in from where they spread up against the wall, his knuckles whitened and stretching the skin thin.

The space between his body and the partition is hardly anything, and he doesn't want to pull him out entirely, but he wants to know - his free hand pulls at his hip so it gives him the slight room he needs to reach in and find the base of his cock. His thick base is hard to the touch, and he wonders just how much is gathering at his tongue, in holding back from what he knows is a lovely, lovely treat. His touch, tracing lightly, is increasingly an exercise in restraint. He finds his own length is stiffening - unsurprising enough given what's in front of him - and he holds himself deliberately careful, deliberately sparse in how he proceeds in order to not go any further than what's been agreed to. When he pushes and explores inside of him, it's considered, and intentional in what will make him keel. His knees knock against the wall with every calculated, trace motion. 

Two fingers in the hand settled around his dick stretch out to graze tips up further along until they find the rim of the glory hole. Careful, he probes through until reaching through to the other side.

He stands up straight to uncover his mouth, resting his chin against the acute angle of bone. It's a moment barely wide enough for a breath, between when he beckons an invitation, and feels the slut's mouth take in the fingers, cock, sloppily wet and eager.  

The sudden intake of air is little more than a hiss, and a bitten-down "fuck" in the outrush following, and Kibum throatily growls his approval at both of that, and both of them - Minho is still squirming for his penetrating fingers, and their guest is making his cock, and his own lips, a slick mess. When he drags away, his teeth briefly catch on his fingers. It's a sharp sensation immediately lapped over his tongue, like waves on a shoreline. The intimacy and distance of it is an intoxicating mix: how he can feel the minor details of how the slut plays at Minho's cock, with the minute pressure of his tongue just beneath the head, followed quickly by the sudden sucking that has Minho's neck arching backwards, begging to be released. Kibum is enamored, and the next time he lets his fingers free, he raises it to brush gently across the swollen plumpness of his lips.  

Barely audible, there's a startled noise that tilts into a pleased, greedy whine.

"Ready?" he says, sotto again, and again just for him. He bounces, just a bit, at the knees, eager and brimming, so he lets his sparse touches luxuriate. They turn from glancing to concentrated, rubbing and pressing with altogether less restraint, though no less care. 

He lets the slut do what he does best.

It takes little longer, him falling apart. When he feels him start to quiver, jittering as he is pinned with Kibum's cock grinding against his thigh, he pushes only harder and Minho curses against the board, inutterably foul-mouthed as satisfaction breaks over him. His cock pulses weakly against his fingers as the other man withdraws. He slides his fingers across the tip and finds it clean. 

"Don't swallow," he says, his voice roughened and hard.

 Minho rolls lazily towards the door, his shoulder twisting beneath him as a hinge. He watches as Kibum pulls his own cock out, his eyes half-closed but bright with interest. Kibum shakes his hair back, his dark bangs having fallen towards his eyes, and he reaches out to move them. His fingers stroke softly through his hair for a moment before he pulls away; he leans into the corner, pleased and pleasured.

When he pushes his length through, his mouth is ready to take him in. The finality of Minho's orgasm is a warm wash over him; he is careful to keep his lips closed tightly around his length so as not to waste. Closing his eyes, the sensation eases some of the urgency that had been growing the moment he pressed his fingers past the rim. He moves him around inside his mouth slow and generous; his breath is practiced and even through his nose, the movement of air just the hint of a tickle against his naked cock. 

His eyes close as he loses himself to the gentle, soothing movement that pulls him further and further in. It's only until the constriction tightens around his head that he realizes how deep he's being taken. He presses his hands flat against the wall, his fingers spread wide. 

"He loves this," Minho says, small smile adorning his lips when Kibum turns to look at him. He leans his head as though the slut was standing right next to him, as though this were the bedroom. "Being pampered."

"Yah," he grumbles; he wants to swat at him, but he's just out of reach. Minho's smirk turns into a grin as he mouths an emphatic "you do". 

He wants to respond further, to prove him wrong, but the throat holding him pulses as it swallows and it strips him of speech. Groaning instead, he twists on his forehead, letting the pale grey swim into ribbons as he loses himself again. Minho is saying something more - but he's being held and spoiled and his vices indulged more thoroughly, each motion thrumming towards conclusion. 

A slip, a sudden intake of air through the mouth, and he realizes the slut has let his mouth open, and he must be slopping Minho's cum all over his chin, his composure wrecked in the name of perfect, utter filth. 

It takes little more than the image he had taken earlier, painted over in his imagination with saliva and cum and sweat, for Kibum to reach his own completion. Minho steps up behind him as he convulses through it, his hands secure and heavy on his hips, his nose buried in his hair. He can't help but take in a shaky breath as it passes out of him; his sweat leaves a damp spot on the wall when he lifts away from it. Slowly, reluctantly, he withdraws his now spent cock. 

Unable to resist after such treatment, he even lets Minho back-hug him for the afterglow. 

"You can swallow now," he says, suddenly remembering and wrestling himself out of the embrace. It feels more awkward, absent of the anticipation and the act itself, but it only feels right to finish it as much as he started it. The other man must feel the same way, because he only starts hearing him breathe through his mouth, in a near-pant of rapidity that makes Kibum wonder how often he does this, at what point (if there is any) that he lets himself have some release.

"Thanks," he says. "Better brush and floss tonight, I guess."

Minho brays in laughter behind him, and Kibum shakes his head at the joke, but the goofiness of it is charming, especially in contrast. 

"It was good," he says. He wants to say the next part explicitly, but holds it back, knowing how it would come across - some presumption of possession, of an assumed consent - instead letting it be an implication, an open invitation. "We're going out now."

There's nothing really more for him to say, but Minho half-bends over so he can wave goodbye properly, and he tucks their hands together when they walk out.

* * *

 Jonghyun laughs when he sees them come back together, how Minho's shirt isn't quite tucked back in to his pants, and Taemin loudly points out that his zipper is still undone as well.

"Shut up," he says, still pleased enough that it comes out harmless and without any real heat behind it. Kibum straightens out his own jacket instead, even though there's been no comment thrown his way. The seat left open is the one he wanted, the one facing the bathroom, enough that he can pass it off as watching the dancefloor.

"We should come here more often," Taemin says. It's said so casually and offhand Kibum could almost believe he hadn't just had his dick sucked out, but - 

"If you think you're being subtle, he sucked your brains out too."

"Bummie!" Jonghyun exclaims, but he nods in agreement when Taemin glances at him. 

"What, all of us had a good time," he says, then remembers to put one finger up. "For one. And - good drinks," he expansively gestures at the bottles and various glasses. "For two. And three - "

"Good company?" Minho says. 

"Yeah, let's call it that," drawls Kibum. "Taemin, just say it."

"Fine, there is a gift of a magical, cocksucking slut in the bathroom. Who we all liked!"

"That's a new one," a new, but not unfamiliar voice says. "But thanks. Again."

Jonghyun twists to look - the other man has come up from behind him - and he freezes at him standing there, his rings glittering with the reflected rainbow of lights, the glisten of water dabbed against his chin, his cheeks, and the v-line at his chest in an effort to clean it. 

"Hi," Jonghyun says, his voice curious, but light, flittering and flirting in blissful ignorance. "A new what?"

"Compliment. Jonghyun, right?" he says and he holds his fingers up, wiggling them playfully.

"Um," comes the slightly panicked response. The air is practically blushing for him, over-heated and nervous. "Hi."

"I was invited," he says, eyes finding Kibum's. "If that's OK."

"Of course, of course," Jonghyun says as he finds his voice again. He slides over until he's pressed thigh-to-thigh with Taemin, who appears to have checked out entirely. "Sorry, you're welcome here, I just - you said - I mean - you're....being a person."

"Mmhmm," he says, amused and smiling. Minho clears his throat and smiles back with an admirable lack of reservations. "I got what I wanted."

"Glad we could help with that," Kibum says. "Want a drink....?"

"Jinki," he says. Jonghyun looks slightly less hunted, for some reason.

"Jinki. Kibum," he says, then points around the half-circle. "Jonghyun, Taemin, Minho."

"It's been a pleasure," his eyes glitter with laughter. 

Taemin coughs, patently false, and Kibum sharpens his eyes into a glare as Minho and Jonghyun look in with equal parts amusement and horror when he leans in, beckoning Jinki forward.

"Right, but which one of us has been the most of a pleasure?"

"Jesus Christ," he mutters, as the other two gasp and begin to scold him. Jinki, however, just smirks and leans in. It has Taemin brightening and eager and curious, and even Kibum stops as he steps outside their perimeter, holding on getting more drinks.

Jinki smiles, confident, sharp.

"If you have to ask, it probably wasn't you."

The circle erupts into laughter, and Kibum joins it too, but he sees how Jinki pats him on the knee the moment after, obviously walking back the retort. It's sweet - like Jonghyun said - it's self-assured - like Kibum saw and Minho experienced - and it's a pinprick into Taemin that he obviously enjoys. 

Frankly, he couldn't ask for more from a random glory hole. 

**Author's Note:**

> [these pics](https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/485553150036803584/534968025523159040/tumblr_pkpq8zpyek1qaz1b4o1_500.png) [right here officer](https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/485553150036803584/534968050294718464/tumblr_pkpq8zpyek1qaz1b4o2_500.png)


End file.
